


Repeat Yesterday's Mistake

by kimbleefucker (hihowareya)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-12 23:07:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20572436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihowareya/pseuds/kimbleefucker
Summary: Miles' chronically soft heart almost pitied him for wanting so desperately to belong. But he looked up into those eyes, those cold, cold blue eyes, and he knew that Kimblee was not one who could accept pity.





	Repeat Yesterday's Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> a small draft I found in my notes on my phone

Every movement was slow and deliberate, as if he had been planning this for weeks, months, years. Miles himself couldn't understand the committed grace in his actions as his hands anchored themselves on the other man's hips almost lovingly- but it wasn't love.

Lust was a better word, he thought, as his hips snapped up roughly to tear another sharp gasp from the state alchemist's throat. Or, was it former state alchemist? Not that it mattered. Even as a state alchemist, Kimblee's rank was only major, and so he was only just as influential as Miles himself. At least that should have been the case, but the Fuhrer, for all his wisdom, decided it was Kimblee who should have the power in this snow for. It was the destroyer of Miles' people who he should answer to.

In a way, this was his own attempt to reverse their roles. To force Kimblee to answer to him. He was quick to ease into Miles' touch, eager to accept him into his body. Miles knew, he could see in ways others could not: Kimblee was simply the Fuherers pawn. His purpose was to do what he was told, nothing more.

He'd only known Kimblee for a short while, but in that time he could tell that he was a people pleaser to those he answered to. Eager to do his job right, eager for that praise. 

Eager for a purpose.

Miles' chronically soft heart almost pitied him for wanting so desperately to belong. But he looked up into those eyes, those cold, cold blue eyes, and he knew that Kimblee was not one who could accept pity. Even glossy with mounting pleasure, they still held a halo of indignation. And he didn't deserve pity either. 

Sometimes he would talk, say something snippy, as if he were urging Miles to discipline him for being such a brat, but Miles knew better than to give in to him. Instead, he would do what he was doing, giving him the empty glare, holding onto his pale skin as he chased his own climax.

It only came after Kimblee's though, tinged with annoyance that he had the release of a criminal pooling on his stomach and chest. He didn't bother pulling out, he was sure Kimblee would have preferred he didn't anyway. 

This was the third time this had happened, and he never understood him more. No matter what, Kimblee was still an enigma to him. When he had finally laid back down next to him after cleaning himself off, he glanced over at the alchemist who decided to stay in his bed, back turned to him.

"Why do you keep doing this?" He asked, almost unsure if he posed the question to Kimblee or himself. Kimblee didn't move, didn't even turn his head to acknowledge the question, but answered anyway.

"Because I can. It's that simple."


End file.
